Trapped
by LeShyWolf
Summary: Frizzy hair. That's the only thing I thought I had to worry about today. Then on a nice stroll observing nature, a rough hand slapped over my mouth and the next thing I knew I'm in the back of a van, tied up and blind folded. Getting kidnapped by Abstergo. Just my luck, eh?


**Trapped**

**Chapter 1: ****Taken**

**Summary: Frizzy hair. That's the only thing I thought I had to worry about today. Then on a nice stroll observing nature, a rough hand slapped over my mouth and the next thing I knew I'm in the back of a van, tied up and blind folded. Just my luck, eh?**

* * *

Hmm...

So...

What a very interesting turn of events...

Here I am, uncomfortably tied up in the back of a van moving with a blind fold tightly wrapped around my eyes. My body is constantly jolting up and down, jerking left and right from the bumpy ride. I have no seat-belt, or _chair_ for that matter. In fact, I'm lying down on my back while trying to get a good grip on the van wall for leverage to pull myself up. But with the amount of movement the van shakes every five seconds, I'll just say that it's kind of impossible.

I am pretty sure that the hot feeling coiling and twisting inside of my stomach is a mix of the emotions anger and panic. It's a strange combination. Adrenaline is rushing through my veins and my breathing is quite rapid, the pulsing of my frantic heart beat is slamming in my ears. I'm terrified, but the urge to stay calm is strong, so when the van stops (I'm assuming the reason is traffic lights) I huddle up, pulling and yanking on my binds to escape. My shoulders are taut as I attempt to bite into the rope, finding out that the friction being caused on my wrists is not fun.

Plans and ideas swarm in my fuzzy mind, the fear of what is going to happen to me is washing through my body as I keep struggling in my binds. I stop and let out a cry of pain when I'm suddenly forced to roll over and the van wall harshly collides with my side. A long groan emits from my dry lips as the van swerves to a halt. I hear the back door opening and feel two big hands grasp my shoulders, dragging me out of the back. Cold air slaps me across the face as my weight drags me down, my body swinging around slightly because I can't stand up right. One of the hands grabs the back of my hoodie, it being the only thing keeping me up.

I'm suddenly hoisted into the air and let out a startled, strained grunt when my stomach roughly collides with something. I don't know what it is, but it's hard and bony- like a shoulder. My captive moves forward and I struggle not to groan from the shoulder digging into my stomach painfully. I hear a short, high pitched beep as the blood slowly rushes towards my head, the top half of my body being hung upside down an' all.

With the gag in my mouth it's difficult to curse at them and call the people that kidnapped me nasty names, plus swearing at the people holding me hostage isn't the brightest idea, so I do it in my head instead as he continues walking. I groan, wiggling to try and get comfortable all to no avail. I hear their foot steps echo against what could be marble or a tiled floor. The sound of shoes tapping on the ground makes it clear that it's a hard, smooth service.

After what feels like forever, the strain put on my stomach painful, we finally arrive somewhere. Two men talk in a different language. It sounds like Russian or something. I don't understand anything except when they greeted each other with their names. They're talking so quickly that it just sounds like gibberish to me. When they're done talking, I hear another high pitched beep and we're on the move again. We apparently arrive at our destination and I'm sat down in a chair. It feels uncomfortable, cold metal. My hands are still tied together as are my feet. I feel like a freaking worm.

"Ostav'te nas." I don't understand the words, but the tone sounds like a sharp command. The faint noise of a buzzer causes me to turn my head in the direction of the noise, a thud following. I wait in silence for a moment, my heart beating against my chest. The only sound is my breathing that's shaky and increasing.

My entire body freezes as cold, slender fingers brush against my face, reaching around my head. The blindfold is taken off and I hiss in reflex at the bright, blinding light that's shined in my eyes. My vision is blurry, so I blink a few times. When I can see better, I look up and see a man with neat grey hair combed to the side and a beard, suited up with a black turtleneck, brown trousers and a brown blazer. He has his hands clasped behind his back as he looks down at me, titling his head to the side slightly as his grey eyes regard me.

"Charlotte... isn't it? Beautiful name."

I don't answer him, adjusting my position on the metal chair to get more 'comfortable' while avoiding his eyes. As comfortable as you can get while in a room with a man you've never met before, tied up and feeling sore almost all over. My limbs ache, there's a throbbing bruise on the side of my face and my bottom lip is swollen. I shift on the chair again, running my tongue over my sore lip.

He raises an eye brow, seemingly impatient with my lack of response. "My name is John O'Bryan. You're probably wondering why you're here." He smiles down at me after he places the blind fold on a small metal stool. It isn't friendly or welcoming, it's cold and false. It's malicious. I press myself into the chair as he leans forward, placing his hands on the arm rests. "You see, I know exactly where you come from. You, my dear, are an_ abomination_."

Our eyes meet as I search his features, confusion washing over in my mind as I think about what he means. I stare at him as his hot, surprisingly mint tinged breath flows towards my face. My feet push on the floor to bring myself back, pressing my body more into the chair as I attempt to escape him. His lips are no longer in that fake smile and he stands up straight.

Suddenly, a burst of pain explodes in the side of my face as my head is forced to jerk to the side. My cheek stings while my hair falls into my face and I feel a sting burn in my eyes as I try my damnedest not to cry from it. I don't want to cry, _especially_ in front of this guy, but the tears flow out of my blue orbs and slide down my cheeks. I let out a shaky breath, clenching and unclenching my hands before I slowly look up at him with eyes narrowing in anger, despite the fear that strongly curses through me.

He looks at me without batting an eye lid as he takes a step towards me as if to throw his fist at me once again. I shiver slightly as I back into the chair, the anger has deflated and the horror of the situation I'm in right now slowly sinks in. An icy feeling of fear is chucked onto me as dread slithers inside of me. I swallow a lump in my throat, a shuddering breath coming from my dry mouth.

"You most likely are wrongfully perceiving your reason for being here..." he leans forward and I suck in a sharp breath. Lifting a hand, he softly brushes his fingers on my cheek, stroking it. I flinch, recoiling away form the disgusting touch. He brings his hand to my chin, digging his nails into it and forcing me to meet his gaze. I wince at the force he uses. "...Hmm?"

"What do you want from me?" I finally give in, asking the cliché question.

"Ah!" he exclaims excitedly, making me jump, stepping back and holding out his arms gleefully in the air as if greeting an old friend. His lips slip into a sly smirk as his eyes flicker down to meet my blues. "She speaks!" He leans down, putting his hands on his knees as hie face becomes level with mine. "Though, how disappointing it is that your first words to me are a silly inane question."

I feel so very tempted to spit at him, but know it will only get me into more trouble, so I hold it. I also restrain myself from cursing at him, understanding it will only result in me gaining another nasty slap. Instead, my eyes just narrow at him as my lips press together in a severe, thin line. He doesn't seem to like the silent glare, obviously attempting to get a rise out of me.

John's features form into an irritated expression as he mockingly sighs with sadness, standing back up straight as he turns around, walking towards a metal tray I just noticed. I can't see what's on it, him in the way. He pulls on some gloves and my heart races abnormally fast. "You are starting to irk me, Charlotte. I suggest you answer my questions like a good little bitch or..." he turns, a dark loom shadowing the top of his face, a knife held up in his hand. The sharp end glints in the light when he wiggles the tool. "... face the nasty consequences."

A hard lump grows in my throat, I swallow with wide eyes on the knife, never leaving the incredibly sharp looking object. John fiddles with the knife as he grabs a stool off the side, sitting in front of me while tilting the sharp tool side to side almost boredly. His stormy eyes pierce my blue ones as his jaw clenches, annoyance flashing in his steel coloured orbs. My heart stutters when he puts the sharp end of the knife on my knee, trailing a small pattern there. It tickles slightly from the gentleness he's using, like if you brush a feather on your skin. But I have a feeling if I don't give this guy what he wants, it's definitely _not_ going to feel like a _feather_ anymore.

"_Please,_" my voice cracks and I grimace at the pathetic sound, feeling helpless while looking down at my leg where the knife is dragging, a little harder now. I stiffen, closing my eyes and letting out another shuddering breath. "What do you want?"

"Answering that question so soon is too easy, my dear," he declares with a malicious gleam in his grey eyes, but he lifts the knife off my leg. "However, through observation I happen to contain knowledge regarding a certain subject." I'm deadly still when he places the knife at my collarbone, mentally slapping myself for wearing a tank top today, but how was I to know I was going to be kidnapped? "The said subject happens to be you."

I look up at him, feeling the incredibly loud pulse in my ears. I'm honestly surprised he can't hear it, with the volume it happens to be at. He tilts his head to the side, eyes trailing to my collar bone as he prods the skin there. I gasp at a sudden, hot sting that explodes there. He's pierced my skin, the crimson liquid flowing down. I grimace, shifting uncomfortably as he puts the knife underneath my chin, tilting my head up to meet those cold grey eyes, filled with malevolence. A sadistic glint gleams back at me when I inhale a quick intake of breath at the sting.

The doors hiss open suddenly, a rough looking man charges through. John's eyes flash with irritation as he spins around, snapping at the man in that language from earlier. Russian. He snaps back and John hisses something, looking non too happy as he whips out his phone while yelling. My eyes drift over towards the Russian man. He has to be over 6 foot. Muscular. His hair is long and in a pony tail, stubble dotted across his chin. Dark brown, almost onyx eyes glance towards me to meet my blue and I stiffen as a slow wolfish grin spreads on his face. I quickly avert my view, to the floor.

"Da!" John switches off his phone and looks over at me, his aggravated eyes look like a wild storm as he marches over towards me and yanks me up by my elbow. He pulls on the blindfold and I stumble as he hauls me along behind him, not being able to see anything. My body trembles, feeling weak from fear and lack of food. I haven't eaten that much all day. It doesn't help.

"Nesi eto."

I hear the man grumble and before I know what's happening, I'm quickly lifted into the air. Letting out a cry of shock, my head spins with dizziness as I try not to freak out. My stomach is pressed against a hard shoulder again and I groan, huffing as he carries me. Every step he takes shakes through to his shoulder, putting more strain on my stomach. Eventually, I'm thrown down onto a solid surface. I grunt when I collide with the ground, my arm no doubt already forming a bruise.

"Make yourself at home." His voice tells me before I hear a hiss. Then silence. Moaning, I shift my weight, eventually being able to sit up on my knees. I twist my hands in the rope, but then wince at the pain the friction between my skin and the restraints have caused me.

Adjusting my position on the floor, I crawl backwards until I feel something. A wall. I use it as leverage to get myself up and grunt as I take a step forward, reaching up with my tied hands and taking off the blindfold and groan before I hiss at the bright light in the room. It's small and looks like a hotel room. Though it looks neater, the colours grey and dull. The door is practically a big window. Completely glass and see through, yet it looks like one of those bullet proof thick windows. I notice a door frame (no door) over to the far right, where a bathroom is. As I shuffle around, exploring this space. I happen to spot that cameras are in every corner, all set on me. Even in the _bathroom_, gross perverts.

My hands are still tied, but the more I attempt to undo them the more it hurts my wrists, so I just leave them for now as I go over towards the bed, observing the sharp edges of the uncomfortable, hard mattress. I lift my feet onto the mattress and it feels like forever before I eventually undo the knots. I yank my feet from the binds and let out a sigh of relief as I rub my sore ankles before hugging my legs, tears filling my eyes as the shock that numbed the danger of the situation fades away. I sob into my knees, finally breaking down as I forget about the cameras watching me. I manage to fall asleep, even on this hard mattress.

A high pitched screeching that almost makes my ears bleed emits at an incredibly loud volume, it wakes me as I'm crying out in shock and pain, hands shooting to my ears to muffle the noise but to no avail, the sound continues as I roll over and fall off the bed with an unpleasant grunt. Then it stops and I gasp in relief, rubbing my ears as if it will stop the pain they feel. What the hell was that? The human equivalent to a dog whistle?

"I apologize for the disturbance." John's familiar voice says from an intercom in the room. The tone isn't genuine or sympathetic at all, more mocking as he taunts me. Sorry my _arse_. "But you're a very heavy sleeper." When I get my hands on him... I'll make him watch Twilight. It'll be a similar scene to that time in A Clockwork Orange. That'll show him.

"I'm feeling generous and civil." I scoff at his words, he ignores me. "I'm giving you this opportunity to co-operate out of your own free will and act politely instead of like a wild animal." He told me. "Though, for _you_ it will prove a challenge, I'm sure I can force some manners out of you."

I stay silent, giving him the cold shoulder as I sit back on 'my' bed and leaning over, my hair falls into my face as I look down at my feet, which are still clad in my converse boots. A soft static buzzes in the air from the intercom before he speaks again. "I expect no violence, good behavior, no back talking, no escape attempts and you _may_ just get out of here alive." I scowl. "Do we have an accord, Charlotte?"

"I... _yes_." I reluctantly agree and force out of my teeth with a heavy sigh, knowing that being a kiss ass is the only thing that will keep my alive without being tortured right now. As much as it hurts my pride to be treated like a little untrained puppy, knowing that I really shouldn't anger my captives, especially in this kind of vulnerable position.

I'm trapped.

A Prisoner.

As I hug my legs to my chest, eyes staring up at the red dot in the midst of the camera that's blinking at me, I have a ton of questions swarming in my mind, but the most important nags me...

What do they want from me?


End file.
